


The Various Lives of Cats

by Beth Winter (BethWinter)



Category: Romeo & Juliet - Takarazuka Revue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Other, Women Being Awesome, they're all screwed anyway so might as well get a drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 00:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17070254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethWinter/pseuds/Beth%20Winter
Summary: Juliette is more informed than a sheltered sixteen year old has a right to be. This is all Tybalt's fault. Benvolio and Mercutio commiserate.





	The Various Lives of Cats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



Later, Tybalt can pinpoint the exact moment everything went wrong.

It wasn't at the ball, or Lord Capulet's marriage plans, or Rosalind showing a gram of sense. It was much earlier than that, when he was fourteen and stabbed in a street fight for the very first time, recovering in a garret in the Capulet mansion when this lanky barely not a toddler poked her pointy chin into the room.

Juliette made a habit of it over the long weeks of his recovery. She'd slink into the room, curl up at his feet and poke him until he produced a story for her. She was small, wide-eyed and distractible, and he may or may not have spent his childhood playing with every kitten in the Capulet warehouses.

They started calling him the Prince of Cats at the age of eight. It took him a few years to make sure it referred to his silence and love of blades.

His human kitten treated him like a favourite toy she'd find and prod at when feminine instructions bored her. He'd tell her things just like he'd tell the rooftop cats. The feuds, the affairs, the dead and the living. Sometimes, she answered back.

He's regretting it now. The liquor is helping.

The hand that moves to claim his bottle isn't helping, but it's hard to focus beyond the surprisingly well-manicured fingers.

"How does that work?" The words are muffled by Benvolio's position, nose buried in the crook of an elbow spread out on the tavern table. "From there to here. So she listened..."

Tybalt grabs blindly at the bottle, groping down Mercutio's arm before he finds and reclaims it. "She learned. Princesss - Juliette thinks like us. 'nnatural."

Benvolio's eyebrows spike as much as his hair. "Run that by me again."

"She found me after the ball and complained about you lot raising hell and Romeo taking liberties." There's a hand playing with his hair and he swats at it. "Said she had a plan. Make him pay. Actual money. And make Montagues lose the feud."

There are a couple of men standing in the tavern door, looking at them oddly. They look Montague, so to hell with them.

"So you crashed our street..."

"That was almost impressive," Mercutio adds, his chin propped on Tybalt's shoulder again. By his imperviousness to elbow jabs, he must be wearing cuirass under his clothes. "Until you tripped on that old woman's veil."

Benvolio yawns. "Spoiled our sport."

"Trust me, you don't want to get on that old woman's bad side." Tybalt rolls his shoulders, still unable to dislodge the wretched Montague. "I think Juliette gave messages to Romeo to both of us. I should have realised when he gave the Nurse that rose..."

"Could've still stopped him." Benvolio actually lifts his head to glare. "Unconsummated. Only rumour. If they hadn't gone to the Prince with their damnable deal."

Mercutio giggles, the sound tickling Tybalt's ear. "Uncle was actually smiling."

"Yeah, because they vouched with both their estates!" Benvolio's arm almost sweeps the bottle off the table. "And what were we doing?"

"Trying to get hold of Tybalt because Romeo told us he was up to something," Mercutio answers, wrapping his arm around Tybalt's torso in emphasis. "That was a chase worthy of Roman heroes."

Instead of protesting, Tybalt leans back with his entire weight. Unfortunately Mercutio isn't as easy to dislodge as the usual women who cling on him.

"Juliette's idea," Tybalt admits. "So I'd not find out."

"So we'd not find out." In their new position, Mercutio has reach enough to start to play with the decorations on Tybalt's shirt. "Idiot Romeo. What's he getting married for?"

"Juliette," Benvolio says. "And her?"

Tybalt snorts. "Avoiding getting married off to the worst fop in Verona. Have you met Paris?"

Surprisingly, Mercutio nods. "I don't blame her. After three minutes of conversation you start looking for something to stab him or yourself."

"Lord Capulet didn't let me," Tybalt complains. "'m supposed to be in charge when he dies."

Mercutio pats his chest. "That might be soon. He was looking very red at the steps of the palace."

"Redder than Lord Montague," Benvolio agrees. "And that took some doing. I don't think Romeo had the right to structure the contract with the Prince like that. Or the marriage contract."

"Juliette definitely didn't."

"How'd she know all the legal language? That certainly wasn't Romeo."

Tybalt grimaces. "I had legal lessons. Boring. She stole my books. And that nurse of hers, she was married to a lawyer."

"Remind me not to cross our new shared cousin," Benvolio says. "Do you think she gets that determination from her mother?"

"I found that woman naked in my bed once." Tybalt catches up to his mouth a breath too late. "And if either of you tell anyone about it, I'll cut both your hearts out and feed them to my cats."

Benvolio sighs and puts his head back on his arms, nestling in at the table. "So Romeo is screwed."

"By now, probably," Mercutio agrees. "She wouldn't leave that avenue to annulment open."

Tybalt growls, and earns a nip to his ear for his trouble.

"Lady Montague will kill me," Benvolio says morosely. "Why didn't you keep an eye on Romeo? Why didn't you tell me Romeo grew up? Useless boy, why weren't you with Romeo? Pass me that damn bottle."

Mercutio reaches for it under Tybalt's arm and nudges it towards his compatriot, then lets his hand slip off the table as he settles in even closer. "Verona's going to get boring. And God forbid this fashion for solving conflicts with weddings catches on. I haven't been avoiding them for years without reason."

Benvolio smiles happily, swallowing his mouthful of spirits before showing his teeth. "If you marry Paris, your financial troubles will be over."

Mercutio snorts straight in Tybalt's ear. Tybalt would complain, but with the liberties he's let the damn Montague get away with, getting up to throw him to the ground isn't a wise choice just now.

"I'd marry Tybalt before Paris," Mercutio purrs. "At least he's a challenge."

"Not with your hand down his trousers."

"I can stab both off you without moving from my seat," Tybalt threatens.

"Pass." Benvolio waves the half-full bottle at them, and clinks it against the previous empty one. "This is my preferred company for the night. But I think Mercutio'd appreciate a stabbing."

Mercutio for his part is giggling helplessly against Tybalt's back, which tickles and pulls at his hair. He's either too far gone to keep his seat or making a good impression for it in the name of nighttime entertainment, which means Tybalt has the excuse he needs to drag him bodily out of the tavern. He still has a warehouse key or three, and he's not the only Capulet drowning his bafflement in drink after the events of that afternoon.

The cats pay them no attention that night.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the opportunity to rewatch Hoshigumi R&J and the glory that is Teru. Happy Yuletide!


End file.
